Unkiss Me
by SingleHearts
Summary: "I should go," Malia quietly stated never meeting Stiles eyes. She wanted to jump off the window but her knees felt so weak she knew she wouldn't be able to exit gracefully, so she walked past Stiles instead and out the door. Closing it behind her for the first time. [Rated M for some language]
1. Chapter 1

**Don't hate me, I revised and edited the first chapter. I am planning to do the same with the rest of the chapters. I still have the original, so if you don't like how this turned out please let me know and i will change it back. I am so sorry, I have some readers that seem to really like this fic and I just, I just want to change it all.****But do let me know what you think. **

**Again, this fic was created in a crazy inspirational moment acquired after listening to Maroon 5's Unkiss Me, thus the title lol. **

**I'm really trying to finish this. I really am. **

* * *

The tiresome days never seem to grow old for his particular life; it is like his life enjoys it, enjoys making him frustrated and tired, _all the time_. His life sucks.

Today, like most other days, he is having a particular shitty day and he can't wait for this shitty day to end so he could start another one tomorrow. Routines are just marvelous, but they are even more freaking fabulous when they are interrupted by unexpected supernatural surprises—an unforeseen slap in the face. That's his life, a constant interrupted routine of unexpected supernatural surprises.

"_Stiles_…" the day hasn't even really begun and he can already feel one of those annoying migraines threatening to erupt within his cranium.

"I-Don't-Care," Malia is clearly stating each word as if worried that Stiles might not understand, but he understands; he understands perfectly even without the over-exaggerated accentuation.

The mocking obviousness in her tone is enough to drive Stiles Stilinski right to the edge. He sort of twists in the inside, his muscles and intestines recoiling like springs. "You-you are just sooo..." he squints one eye and curls his fingers as if he were ready to rip someone's balls off.

"So what?" She is so relaxed, smirking at him and throwing him careless shrugs like the most nonchalant human in the world. Meanwhile here he is trying so hard at not blowing up like an overinflated balloon.

He grunts in annoyance, releasing all that frustrated air within him. He isn't going to explode, it's not worth it. Malia Hale is simply impossible. He'd blow his brains out and she'd probably wouldn't even care. She'd probably just stand there, unamused, while splatters of his most important organ slide down the walls like slick slime.

"…impossible sometimes," he sighs.

Malia smiles a cheeky smile, feeling quite content with herself, "Yeah, so I've heard."

Stiles is trying his best to avoid looking at her; he is trying his best not to look at her being so smug but his hidden desires betray him, like most things in his life, and he spies at her through the corner of his eye. She is standing so close to him; leaning against the lockers like it's the most comfortable thing in the world, while he stands, struggling to get his own locker open, only a few feet away from her.

"Plus, I don't have to listen to you anymore. There is absolutely no reason." She states it like a dismissive shrug while staring at him, and Stiles has to really restrain himself from looking at her this time.

Malia Hale's stare has no shame whatsoever, it has the ability to dress and undress you in a matter of intense seconds, and Stiles can't handle that kind of intensity, not if he doesn't want to dissolve into some blabbering fool.

He widens his eyes, trying hard to fight the fact that she is still staring at him, "Uh-_yeah_ there is. You are still unable to control your shift, remember? And last time I checked, you still kind of suck at staying in control during a Full Moon."

She rolls her eyes and huffs "So?"

Stiles feels a wave of relief when he feels her stare leave the side of his face, and he finally regains enough concentration to get his damn locker to open.

Malia is looking at her feet with furrowed eyebrows. She really doesn't need a reminder of what she already knows; she is a were-coyote not a freaking toddler for christ sakes. She knows she still sucks at being in control.

Stiles reaches into his locker in search of his Econ textbook, feeling a little more confident than before, "Sooo…I am still the were-trainer of this pack."

Malia, who had gained a newfound interest to her covered feet, goes rigid at the realization of where this half ass conversation is going. Stiles goes rigid as well, his hands frozen inside his locker, when he feels how tense Malia has gotten all of a sudden.

She stands up straight and in all seriousness says, "I can handle it now; I have Scott. I listen to him, I do as Scott says." Stiles immediately turns to look at her, a little taken aback by the tone of devotion and utter certainty in her voice.

A spark of jealousy flickers in his chest but quickly extinguishes at the remembrance of Scott's past little fiasco. "Yeah right, like that went well last time you were left with him on a Full Moon," he sarcastically snorts and turns his attention back to his locker feeling somehow victorious.

Malia frowns hard at the overconfident human, wishing she could wipe that smirk right off of his pretty little face. "That's because he had me and Liam to take care of," she defensively bites out in favor of her alpha, but Stiles only rolls his eyes.

He can be quite as infuriating as she, and stubborn.

Malia is beginning to feel a little panicked and frustrated at Stiles disinterest to change his mind. She doesn't want him there; she doesn't want him present when she fights the pulls of control. "_Fine_…" she grits out "…then _you_ can handle Liam tonight and Scott can look after me, he won't have a problem if it's just me." She is feeling quite content with her plan; if Stiles wants to play the were-trainer then _fine, _but he won't be playing were-trainer with her, not tonight.

"No." It is all he says before Malia's smile starts fading. She could strangle him; she wants to. Stiles sighs leaving all snarky and mocking tone aside. "Liam stays better in control when Scott is there and you…" he glances at Malia, and sighs when he sees anger and disappointment displayed on her face like a freaking billboard sign; _and you stay better in control when I'm there_ he wants to say but doesn't.

Malia rolls her eyes, clearly done with trying to deal with the Stilinksi kid, and turns away leaving Stiles in mid-thought. "Hey! We aren't finished here! Malia!" Stiles calls out to her a little desperately, but Malia only waives her hand dismissively, not turning back to look at him.

Stiles mumbles out a few curses under his breath and shoves his Econ textbook in his backpack. This is how his "conversations" with Malia usually end now, and even though it has been a while of this, he still can't seem to get used to it. He always feels a little desperate, a little anxious when she leaves him just like that.

Yeah, it is just another shitty day.

* * *

Stiles has to slide into his seat like some secret ninja when he arrives just a few minutes late to Coach Finstock's class, but his tardy goes unnoticed because the teacher is putting on a show somewhere on the other side of the classroom.

Coach is marching like a hunched lieutenant at the back of the room giving out one of his best speeches of, probably, the semester.

"Alright you mindless deviants, I know that by now the wheels in your brains have been turning _furiously _trying to figure out a way to top off last year's little prank." Finstock is walking down every aisle, inspecting every single student in his class like some kind of narcissist FBI detective.

"Ha-ha! Gotcha Jared, you little troll. I see you squirming in your seat. In fact, I can see every single one of you little deviants, yeah that's right. This year I'm keeping my eye on every-single-one of you degenerates." Coach points a very intense finger at some of the students, poking in their direction like they are bubbles, easy and fun to pop. "And trust me, when you get caught, because you _will _be caught, you are going to be so _profoundly _sorry that you ever even _thought_ of pulling one on dear old coach." He finishes with a glare that swipes the whole room, taking in every student in his classroom, but his glare stops right on Stiles, who is trying hard not to smile.

Stiles always looks forward to this time of year, the time of year in which he gets to think of the best pranks to pull on dear ol' Coach for misfit day which, by the power of Lady Luck, also happens to be Coach's birthday—oh the beauty of perfect timing. Sadly, this year Stiles has been a little too preoccupied with the supernatural and _other _stuff that he hasn't been able to give much or any thought to Coach's birthday present. No worries, he still has one week to pull of something spectacular.

After Coach's great introductory to the lesson of the day, the class goes on unimaginably slow and Stiles, being the restless kid that he is, begins playing with his textbook, spinning it around on his desk. But like many other things in his life, he suddenly loses control of the textbook and it falls sprawling open onto the floor with a loud _thud!_

"Stilinksi! Seriously!" Coach doesn't even have to turn around to know who is causing the entire ruckus; if it isn't Greenberg then it's the Stilinski kid. "Sorry coach," Stiles says as he fumbles in his seat, leaning forward to grab his textbook. Coach Finstock returns his attention back to his board going about blah blah god knows what, ignoring Stiles apology.

As Stiles picks up his textbook, the pages fluttering as he lifts it from the floor, a folded notebook paper falls out from in-between the pages. Stiles stares at it for a few seconds, with a quirked eyebrow, before he decides to search left and right for any other pair of eyes who might have also noticed the mysterious note coming out of his book. He doesn't know why, but he feels a little iffy about this, excited but iffy. God knows he never opens his Econ textbook, better yet to stuff papers notes in it.

Once he makes sure that the coast is clear he slides the folded paper next to his desk with the underside of his shoe and inconspicuously leans down to grab it. He relaxes back in his seat when he has the mysterious note in his hands, feeling quite triumphant with himself, and unfolds the paper like it's some kind of treasure.

"Malia Tate Hale," that's the first thing he reads.

His eyes grow wide, and his body straightens up in his chair a little too dramatically. He turns to look around, just to make sure that nobody else has noticed the name on this paper before he hunches over it protectively.

He licks his lips nervously as he turns his attention back to the paper. He recognizes the writing; it is Malia's wild writing. The content is written in splotches and scrawls of red ink.

He squirms nervously in his seat; there are two lists written on the worn out paper: a list titled "Bad" and another titled "Good."

Suddenly Stiles feels too aware of his heart beating loudly in his chest, and he puts the paper down. He isn't sure if he wants to read this, he knows what this is and he shouldn't have seen it. What the hell was it doing in _his_ textbook anyway?

His fingers nervously tap on the desk, creating a drumroll for the inevitable. Stiles is going to read it, he has to. Maybe it's a sign of some sort; Malia never really did talk to him not in the way he always hoped for.

He feels a little guilt and excitement in having discovered, what he feels to be, a missing page out of some secret journal. The guilt and excitement doubles, mixing in with anxiety from knowing that it is Malia's.

Maybe he really shouldn't read it. If Malia had attempted to hide it, because obviously that is what she had tried to do, it was because she didn't want anybody else to see it. But, Stiles needs to know, he really needs to know.

He was the one to give her the idea, telling her that she should right out a list of all the bad and good things in her life. If she isn't able to express her emotions in sentences, maybe simple bullet points would work best. "You don't have to show me, if you don't want to. It's for you, it's to help you," that's what he told her.

He hadn't known that she had actually followed his advice. She actually wrote the list, and it seems that she added to it and kept it for a while because the paper was a mess. Soft on the edges from being folded and unfolded so many times, wrinkled by time and stained with evidence of various moments.

He prepares himself, inhaling deeply as he grabs the paper once again and begins reading the longest list on the paper with a thudding heartbeat.

* * *

"Peter Hale," is listed first under "Bad" and Stiles can't help but release a pleased smirk at such a great start, but his smirk quickly dies with number two, "Killed Sister" and number three "Killed Mother."

He puts the paper down and quickly brings his thumb up to his mouth to begin the torturous routine of biting off the skin around his nail. He hadn't really known what to expect from the list, Malia isn't as easy to read as an open book. He knew about Malia's guilt but he still never figured— no…he did.

He picks up the paper again with his free hand and continues reading with a bouncing knee. Number four reads longer than anything else on the list and it is, "Making Tate an angry man." Stiles inwardly groans, his knee bouncing faster as he continues with number five: running away. Stiles furrows his eyebrows at the paper trying to decipher this one before moving on to number six.

The only scenario he could back this up with is with her disappearance into the woods for eight years. Yet, this hadn't been her fault; none of this had been her fault, not even the asshole of Peter Hale. He could understand why Malia could see all this as "bad" but did she know, did she know that it isn't her bad.

Stiles releases his thumb from the clutches of his teeth to run his fingers through his hair. He somehow wishes he had found this paper months ago, from the first moment it was created.

He continues on with the following, "being an animal" and Stiles has to bite the inside of his cheek from spitting out _Fuck!_ Why didn't he have this in his hands months ago? Number seven makes matters even worse; it reads "Feeling" and Stiles instinctive reaction is to clench his free hand into a tight fist.

Number eight continues the trend, "wanting." Number nine mentions control and number ten seems to have been written and scratched out several times, Stiles can only imagine Malia struggling to decide whether it belonged under good or bad. Whatever it was, it seems Malia never really made up her mind about it.

The last thing on the bad list is the most prominent, since it had been written in black ink. The writing had become almost unreadable through smeared and splotchy ink but Stiles could identify each word perfectly. It is a phrase he had come to hate, especially when expressed through a certain person. The same person who found a reason to write it even after he told her it wasn't true.

_NOT HUMAN ENOUGH. _

He crumbles the paper in anger and frustration, and begins biting down at his thumbnail in attempts to keep himself from cursing out in the middle of the class. He directs his eyes towards the window trying to turn his attention somewhere else but instead his mind drifts into a memory he hates to remember.


	2. Chapter 2

**Stiles' Flashback: **

"I don't need protecting! I can take care of myself!" Malia slams into the room, Stiles following silently behind. She had been so quiet on the drive home, and now she is a tornado ready to wreck everything in her wake.

"I survived on my own for 8 years!" She has her arms crossed in front of her chest, fuming out the obvious fact that Stiles is so blatant to ignore. "Malia…" he is looking at her with a sad expression, quietly straining her name through soft lips, and it drives Malia even further into anger.

"Why do you always do that?" She growls at him, letting her arms drop as her hands clench into fists. "Do what?" Stiles stops right on his track, barely realizing with his abrupt halt that he had even moved to get closer to her. "You talk to me like if I'm going to break," she sighs exasperatedly, "I'm fine, Stiles. I don't need taking care of."

He's holding his breath, his shoulders tense as he digests her words. He can go in more than one direction with her statement, but Stiles chooses to avoid the road least less traveled by. He decides to stick with the notion of her wanting independence. He slumps his shoulders and approaches her, "But, that's not the point…we are a pack, we are supposed to take care of each other."

He doesn't quite understand why Malia is behaving this way. They were fine, they were both perfectly fine. Malia fits in Scott's pack, his pack, and he knows that Malia understands the meaning of friendship. He knows she cares; he's witnessed it and felt it, in regards to him and to the others as well. She gets the concept of sticking together, not leaving anyone behind, so why is she so angered by it now?

Malia rolls her eyes and turns her gaze down, away from Stiles' worried eyes. "Okay, as a pack," she quietly states, and she is almost done with having this conversation when she feels Stiles getting closer. She quickly retreats from his approach and darts her gaze back up to meet his eyes. "But that's it, only as a pack," she is deadly serious and it catches Stiles a little off guard.

He stops just a few feet away from her; confusion flushes his face as he sees less possible roads forming in his mind.

"We are a pack…" Malia's eyes don't leave his, sucking him into her reality, into the eye of the storm"…so there is no need of…" She gestures towards him and herself "…_this." _

Stiles stumbles back, feeling as if he's just been spit out of the vortex. "Wha-wha…what do you mean _this_?" Her words had managed to knock the breath right out of him.

"I don't need taking care of Stiles. I'm not a responsibility; I'm not _your_ responsibility…" She is moving towards him, but each step she takes feels like a mile of a step back "…so let's end _this_, because I hate it." Her glare bores into him and there is no escape, no alternative route but this one.

He swallows hard shoving a knot of emotions down his throat.

What does she mean, 'end _this'_? What was _this _in the first place? Stiles has been wracking his brain trying to figure the meaning of _this _since _this _had ever even started. And now, now she wants _this_ to end?

Reality sinks into him like blunt teeth into dry skin and the pain ignites something within him. "You know, I wasn't the one who started _this _in the first place." His frustration is now paired with anger reaching a boiling point that is way past the line of control. "So I don't know why the hell you are so mad at me for it!"

Malia knows when to keep silent, she knows when to step back, and every instinct in her animal being is telling her to back down right this very moment. Yet, another part of her is screaming to let loose.

She is concentrating hard at keeping her claws from popping out, trying hard from letting control overtake her. "Great. You don't want this. I don't want this. So let's get rid of this," she is determined to show Stiles that she isn't a wildling, that control is overrated.

Stiles grits his teeth, squinting his eyes as he fights the urge to yell out all the incoherent thoughts running through his mind. Malia is hitting hard, her indifference towards him is wounding him severely, and he wants to fight back, he wants to leave a scar as well.

"Fine! You don't want this, whatever the fuck _this_ is, then fine! But a little tip, next time make sure to leave it just at the sex, don't go slipping into covers uninvited cuddling around when all you wanted was one fuck!"

He wants to take it back the minute he says it, but the shattered look in her eyes tells him it's too late. He wanted to leave his mark, and he did. It's branded on her like a mutilated scar that screams abuse, and it makes him want to break down in augmented cries.

It isn't fair, he knows it isn't fair; Malia didn't know. He was there too, he was responsible for what had happened; he had taken it further than it had to go that night at Eichen House. She had just innocently kissed him, but he took it as an invitation to something more when she took her shirt off. She didn't know, how could she have known, but he did and he took advantage of that. He allowed his emotions and the sweetness of the moment take over. He made a mess out of something so fragile, and now he fucked it up completely.

Malia falters back unclenching her fists, her furrow disappearing from her face as her eyes fill with hurt. She is looking at him with an emotion that makes him break a thousand times over in the inside. The fierceness that had been in her a few minutes ago is gone, and all he could see now is a fragile girl.

She blinks back tears and quickly looks down, afraid that Stiles might see her cry. "Malia I didn't mean-" Stiles quickly steps towards her, desperately wanting to mend the wound he had inflicted, but she jumps back, stumbling into his drawer. She is trembling and Stiles' every nerve is screaming for him to hold onto her and never let go. But he caused this, he hurt her and that fact detains him from taking another step.

Malia is trying her best not to crumble, because the last time she did it took her 5 years to piece herself back together. She tries to build the suit of steel that keeps her upright, but she is shaking too hard and her eyes sting. She tries to breathe but she can't. Her chest feels like it's caving in on itself and she wants to scream at how terrible the pain is. She hates this feeling, she wants it gone; she wants her armor, she wants her fur.

Right this moment she wants to hate Stiles more than anything, but she hates that she can't.

She doesn't know how, but she finally manages to breathe; her body rattles with the gush of fresh oxygen and she stands upright.

"I should go," she states with enough vigor to leave Stiles doubting whether this is a nightmare and she a daydream.

_She is Malia…_

Malia walks past Stiles, past the window and towards the door.

_She is Malia Hale…_

And as Malia strides towards the only exit of the room…

_She is Malia Hale and…_

…she doesn't once turn to look back.

…_she doesn't crumble. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the awesome reviews! I hope you still like how this story is going...especially to the awesome person who called it a "perfection"...that was like WOW...Please do review again and let me know if this story is still worth it =) **

"Stilinski!" Stiles snapped back to reality whipping his head towards the front of the class, "Get out of my class." He had been so caught up in his memory that he had not heard the bell ring, everybody had already left except him. "Uh sorry coach," he quickly got his backpack and stood up shoving the paper into his pocket and sliding the textbook under his arm. "Stilinksi, make sure McCall doesn't ditch practice as well. I can handle him not showing up to my class but I will not tolerate him skipping practice during finals season. God knows we need more than just Liam to win, all the useless players and Greenberg" Stiles was still in a daze, and only stared at coach as he complained about his team. "Go, go. Get out" Coach shooed Stiles out of the classroom as Stiles happily obliged.

He had forgotten all about practice, yet another thing to worry about. Scott had skipped class to help Derek set up for tonight. The pack knew they couldn't keep on relying on Lydia's lake house, the expensive wooden floors had been damaged enough and Lydia's mother was beginning to ask questions. Stiles walked into the hallway fidgeting with his fingers trying to think of a good enough excuse to keep Coach sated when he found out both Liam and Scott were going to miss practice. "Hey, Stiles!" Stiles heard the squeaking of sneakers as he turned to see Kira running towards him. "Hey" he replied as he smiled back at her. Kira was looking chirpy as usual, "Ready for practice?" Stiles scratched the back of his head, "Yeah I'll just call Scott and ask if he can ma-" Kira interrupted him as she smiled "Oh Scott is already on his way and Liam is already on the field with Malia" Stiles gave Kira a questioning look as he took in all the recent updates, "But I thought Liam wasn't playing, you know with the whole 'I'm too scared of even going out today' thing" Kira smiled again as she rocked back and forth on her toes and heels. "Yeah, but Malia managed to get him to come, so everything's cool now" Stiles widened his eyes in response only nodding his head. Malia and Liam had gotten pretty close recently, if it wasn't Scott taking care of Liam then it was Malia. Stiles did not know what to make of the two, it seemed like a brotherly sisterly kind of relationship but he still got a twist in his stomach whenever he saw the shorty standing so close to Malia. "okay then off we go I guess," Stiles sighed as both Kira and Stiles headed for their respective locker rooms.

Kira had been right, Liam was already on the field standing in front of Malia as she sat on the bleachers. She was smiling like crazy, and the boy had a cheeky grin on his face. _Ugh! Disgusting! _Stiles scowled as he tried his best to avoid looking at the two of them. He had never really liked Liam and he knew he had to give the boy a break. He was the youngest of the pack and he most certainly hadn't asked for everything that had happened to him. Well none of them had, but Liam had been sort of their responsibility, so he knew he had to treat him better. Yet, it was times like this when he just wanted to stomp on the mini Clark Kent and shove some kryptonite down his throat. "Hey Stiles!" Stiles felt a grip on his shoulder as he turned to see his best friend Scott. "Hey Scotty" Stiles slowly exhaled as he dragged his gaze back on the mini boy and the were-coyote. "They are getting along pretty well huh?" Scott said as he looked towards Stiles "It cant be bad for the pack, if you know, we all try to get along" Scott knew that Stiles had this hate relationship with Liam and a very confusing relationship with Malia, but he was trying hard for them to all just get along like a pack should. It would make things so much easier for the alpha. "Yeah Scotty it wouldn't be bad at all, it would actually be a Disney fairytale...too bad the Grimm Bros wrote our tale instead" Stiles said as he half smirked at the alpha.

"Okay you bunch of girls! Asses on the field! NOW! That means you Greenberg! Get your slow ass out here!" Coach was already blowing at his whistle like a maniac and practice hadn't even begun yet. Stiles hated running, he hated it even more when he wasn't running for his dear life. He had never been an athletic kind of guy, he had never even understood why he had tried out for Lacrosse in the first place. Oh right, it had been to impress the strawberry blonde; part of his 10 year plan to make her fall in love with him. Yeah, compared to all his other plans that plan had sucked the most. A good chunk of his life's energy wasted, he could have used that energy on something more productive. Like, focusing on wooing several other girls instead of only one. Now, he couldn't even see the point of that plan or why it had been so goddamn important then. He loved Lydia, but he loved her as much as he loved Scott. If anything ever happened to either one of them he knew he would go out of his freaking mind. Not like he had not been on the brink of losing it already, but that would definitely set him on the edge again. "Faster! My dead grandmother can run faster than you! Not you Yukimora, you are running too fast! Is that even healthy!?" Stiles was already out of breath, it was times like these were he envied his friend's supernatural abilities, they didn't even break a sweat. "Alright you pathetic lot, time to run some drills!" Stiles was already exhausted and practice hadn't even begun, he just wanted to throw himself on the grass and go to sleep. "Stilinski! Whats the matter with you, you're up!" Coach yelled from the bleachers "You're the goaly! Liam, At the front of the line! Alright lets shoot some goals!" Stiles looked at the goaly post and then at Liam who as always, was taking the game too seriously. "Oh fucking great," Stiles mumbled to himself as he geared up for his post. This was going to be fun, but definitely not for him.

"Come on! That was luck!" Malia yelled from the bleachers as she stood up furrowing her eyebrows at coach. Coach had already become accustom to Malia, to the point of being in a little more irritable mood when she didn't show up. "Do over?" Coach grinned at the were coyote "10 bucks on Liam" the were-coyote replied with assertiveness. Stiles began grumbling to himself when he heard Malia bet on the shorty. He had managed to block a shot, a victory of his that not so often happened and coach was calling do over. Freaking were-creatures, couldn't even give him a break as a human. "Alright Stilinski you heard the lady! You better not make me lose ten bucks!" Stiles scowled within his helmet as he glared at Liam. Nope, no matter how hard he tried he still couldn't stop hating the little runt.


	4. Chapter 4

"Okay, we need to be heading to Derek's loft" Scott said as he looked at the time in his cell phone, it was past 7. "Kira will ride with me and Liam and Malia will go with you Stiles," Scott sent Stiles an apologetic look. Stiles only rolled his eyes as he nodded an okay. Malia was standing in the background cross armed as she glared back and forth between Stiles and her alpha. She had often ridden on Stiles jeep, either crowded with the whole pack in the back seat or just her and Stiles. It had often been just her and Stiles, but now she tried to avoid getting on that jeep with Stiles as much as possible, especially if it was just the two of them. Yet, tonight she would be riding with Liam as well so it couldn't be that bad. Malia never quite understood awkwardness but recently she felt a lot of it when it was her and Stiles in some constricted space. "Okay then see you in a few minutes," Scott nodded towards Stiles and then sent a reassuring nod towards Liam who looked like he was going to pass out.

The three of them walked towards Stiles' jeep, setting some distance between them as they walked. Stiles was fidgeting nervously with his car keys as Liam got settled in the back seat. Malia stood right outside the passenger seat cross armed as she decided whether to get in or not. Stiles was looking at her nervously, it had been a while since Malia had sat on the passenger seat of his jeep. Stiles couldn't help but feel a little excitement. Yet, his excitement quickly plummeted when Malia crawled into the back seat next to Liam instead. Stiles looked through the rearview mirror to assess the situation and then turned around to look at Malia to make sure that she was there and not next to him. "What?" Malia scowled, as Stiles dumbfounded look turned into that of annoyance. "Nothing," Stiles sighed as he turned back in his seat to start the car.

It was unbelievable how situations could change so rapidly. If it had been only a few months ago, Malia would have been fighting off anybody to get the passenger seat next to Stiles. Now, she wanted to be as far away from him as possible. If she were allowed to ride the hood of his jeep instead of being inside with Stiles she would and a total Teen Wolf scene would invoke in Beacon Hills. Thankfully, Malia had not reached that desperate point, yet.

Stiles looked through the rearview mirror again, and mentally cursed himself for doing so. Liam had that stupid frightened baby face on and Malia was looking at him worriedly, her eyebrows knitted in concern as she reached out to gently grab his hand. Stiles pressed down on the accelerator, he just wanted to get to Derek's loft and be done with the night.

Little did he know that it was going to be one long ass night.


	5. Chapter 5

**WOW! Thanks for the reviews you wonderful people...you know who you are. Please don't stop reviewing, if you hate how this is going let me know. I only have a few followers and I wish to please you all (though it might be quite impossible) but I'll try. **

**This chapter is a little long, a little too overbearing but i wont spoil anything so go ahead and read =)**

They arrived at Derek's loft; Scott was already waiting there with Kira; a bag full of new chains by their side, since both Malia and Liam had managed to rip through the last set. "You guys ready?" Scott directed his question towards the beta and omega. Malia nodded in response as she positioned herself to the nearest column. Stiles had been the first to think of the whole chaining up process when Scott first turned, but now he really hated the idea. He felt a revolting feeling every time he saw Malia submissively accept being chained up like a wild animal. He thought back to her list "being an animal," if she only understood that she wasn't the monster she painted herself to be.

Malia had made progress before they had left to Mexico in search of Scott and Kira; she had been able to control herself much better then. Stiles and she had made some kind of breakthrough that night at Lydia's lakehouse, when it had just been the two of them; when Stiles had trusted Malia not to kill him, when he broke her chains and set her free. Yet, things went spiraling down after she and him...well after they...after all _that_ happened. After that, Malia had gone back to base one; it had caught the pack by surprise when Malia lost it. They had been so sure she was much better off than Liam, but one night they had realized they had two to take care of again. Well actually, Liam wasn't much of the problem anymore, Malia was the new handful. It was like she had completely lost her anchor and they had to start from scratch. Thanks to Stiles, Liam had the whole "the sun, the moon and the truth" thing going on that kept him grounded. They had tried the same technique on Malia but whenever they reached "truth" she became angrier. Until now the best alternative according to Scott was to hold her down through heavy chains and alpha force.

Stiles had not been present the times previous to this Full Moon. Malia had made it clear she didn't want Stiles around, but tonight Scott had decided that the whole pack should be present. After having some difficulty keeping Malia in check, Scott knew that he needed some type of back up. Scott didn't know much about Stiles and Malia's relationship but he could sense the tense connection between the two. He was certain that Malia's past anchor had been Stiles, even though Stiles and Malia did not wish to admit it.

"Is Lydia coming?" Kira asked as she chained up Malia to the column. Scott turned to look at Stiles who turned to look down at his phone screen, "Yeah she'll be here in a few". Malia emitted a low growl as she told Kira to hurry up with the chains. The full moon was already making its way up into the night sky, and both Malia and Liam were beginning to show beads of sweat on their foreheads.

"You think these will be enough" Kira quietly asked the alpha as she carefully nodded towards the heavy duty chains. "They should be," Scott replied in an almost questioning tone rather than an assertive one. Stiles licked his lips nervously as he saw both Liam and Malia begin to struggle.

Lydia decided to show up fashionably late as usual; her heels clicking against the hard floor as she made her grand entrance to the loft. "Where's Derek?" she asked looking around the loft ignoring both the beta and omega who were struggling to keep sane. "He left with Braeden," Stiles answered never turning to look at her as he kept his stare fixed on Malia. "Right," Lydia simply stated as she crossed her arms in front of her chest pursing her lips. Lydia did not understand why she was called here, as far as she knew she had nothing in relation with the were-coyote or Liam. The banshee felt really out of place at the moment, during previous times she at least had been of some benefit, allowing the pack to use her grandmother's lake house. But now, now she had absolutely nothing to offer.

"Shut up!" Malia growled as she clawed onto open air. Liam had started his whole "The sun, the moon and the truth" chant and it was driving Malia insane. "Urgh! I'm going to claw your throat!" she kept thrashing and clawing onto open air. Liam didn't care, he kept on chanting like it was a holy prayer, rocking back and forth as beads of sweat fell down his brow. Liam looked calm in compare to Malia who wouldn't stop thrashing. Her claws were out, sapphire eyes glowing bright, and fangs cutting into her dry lips as she continuously snarled. "Get me out of these chains so I can rip his throat! I want to shut him up!" Malia was beginning to pull on her chains, her skin digging against the metal as she thrashed herself forward, harder every time. Stiles hadn't noticed it before but the chains were different from the previous ones they owned. These chains were stainless steel all around, rusty and painful looking. "Scott, wha-what's wrong with the chains?" Stiles nervously questioned the alpha, who was beginning to glow red eyes at Malia. "Derek had them, last minute thing," Scott didn't turn to look at Stiles who was glaring at him quite angrily. "But you skipped class for this, you had plenty of time-," Stiles was trying his best not to scream at the alpha, at his best friend. "I had other stuff to deal with Stiles," Scott cut him off with a snarl, quickly shutting him up.

Stiles was trying his best at keeping himself calm. It was enough with two supernatural creatures losing control; they didn't need a human in the picture as well. Yet, he was beginning to feel extremely anxious; Stiles had never been a fan of blood or needles. He hated the idea of claws and savagery and being part of the supernatural world hadn't changed that. So when Malia began to bleed from her wrists, rusty steel cutting into her soft skin, he panicked. The were-coyote was completely oblivious of the damage she was inflicting on herself; throwing and thrashing harder every time as she fought hard to free herself of the constraining chains. Malia only had one thing in mind and that was to get rid of whatever creature kept chanting the word "truth", physical pain being of no interest to the were-coyote. Yet Stiles felt otherwise, every time Malia thrashed forward a surge of pain shot through his body, until he wasn't able to take in anymore.

Stiles threw himself next to Malia, falling on his knees as he tried to stop the were-coyote from thrashing so fiercely. A complete idiotic move, since the length of the chains gave the were-coyote enough space to rip his head off. "Stiles, she'll heal!" he heard someone scream from behind him, but he didn't care, he needed for her to stop moving. "Malia!" Stiles called out to her as he grabbed her by the shoulders trying his best to push her back against the column. He should have known it would be impossible, she had supernatural strength and he didn't. "I'll shut him up! I'll crush his bones!" Malia thrashed forward, ignoring Stiles completely as fresh blood spilled from her bruised wrists. "Hey…Hey! Malia...Malia! Don't listen to him! Focus on something else...Malia!" Stiles grabbed her by the shoulders again only this time he tried to direct her attention towards him. What was he thinking? The point being, he wasn't thinking; he wasn't thinking things through. Stiles always thought things through but whenever it came to this were-coyote he simply acted on instinct instead. "Stiles!" He heard someone yell but it was too late, the were-coyote was now staring straight into his eyes. He had her full attention now, dark sapphire eyes glowing intensely as they menacingly guarded his every move.

Stiles should have crawled away, he should have securely kept his distance from the vicious were-coyote, but he didn't. No, instead he leaned closer to her never breaking the intense stare. "Malia..." Stiles gently called to her "Hey Malia, it's okay...," but the were-coyote only growled not quite recognizing the boy in front of her. She would have pounced or tried to pounce at the human boy; she would have slashed her claws across his throat but something about his voice prevented her from doing so. Malia began taking shallow breaths, her snarl disappearing as she began focusing on the boy. "Malia...it's okay. You'll be okay," the redness that had painted her vision just a few seconds ago was beginning to fade. She now noticed the pair of light brown eyes looking right at her, and something in her mind clicked. It hadn't been the eyes that had made her remember, but it was the way the eyes looked at her that did it. No pair of eyes ever looked at her in the same way these did. "Malia?," and a very familiar warm hand came up to brush a loose strand of hair from her sweaty face.

Stiles gently and ever so softly brushed the skin of her cheek with his fingertips and the simple touch was enough to send a familiar current surging through Malia's body. Suddenly, Malia was seeing red again only this time she was seeing it in flashbacks that came crashing down on her like a loose train .

_I wouldn't leave without you. You're coming back right? No, I would never leave without you. Yeah, I'll never leave you behind. You hate me? _

Malia growled, pushing Stiles with such force that he landed next to Lydia who was keeping her distance. "Malia!" Stiles called as he tried to crawl back next to her, but was immediately detained by Scott. "No," Scott told Stiles as he held his shoulder in a death grip. "But-" Scott cut him off "No," he said again in his alpha tone to let Stiles know he meant it. Stiles fell onto the floor defeated as he brushed his fingers through his hair a little too aggressively.

Malia was fighting an inner battle no longer against her coyote self but against something completely different.

_You hate me?...I think you're so afraid of hurting me... I thought you were running away...We don't leave without people...I thought you were leaving...you're not going to hurt me._

Malia was screaming now, no longer thrashing or growling but screaming like a human; her claws still out and her eyes still that dangerous blue. Yet, she was now cuddled against the pillar attempting to keep herself constrained; the complete opposite of just a few minutes ago.

_Sometimes people do stupid things...stupid things...sometimes...because...-cause...they think...they think its the right thing to do. You're not going to hurt me. Malia! Malia stop! You're hurting her! You're hurting your sister!You're so afraid...so afraid of hurting me. You're sister! What happened to them? Why are you back?! So afraid...because of what you did...what you did...to your family. You hate me?_

Malia let out a horrid scream mixed with that of an animal cry. It was even more ear gutting than Lydia's banshee scream. Scott was trying his best to keep calm, he had stopped Stiles for a reason. Malia was a tsunami of pain and emotions. He was finding it difficult to keep his stance; Malia must be slashing herself internally. Scott's head was beginning to throb and he felt nauseous. Liam was no longer chanting, Malia's screams and emotions were filling him up as well; keeping him from feeling anything else but the nauseating pain.

_Killing doesn't run in the family. Hale...Hale...Hale...I didn't want you, but your mother did...that's why she left. -it doesn't run in the family. She left with you and my daughter...the night of the car accident...killing doesn't-...we got into a huge fight...I said...I wish you were all dead. You hate me? _

_"_Arghhhhhh!" Malia screamed as she covered her ears, tears running down her cheeks. "S-S-Scott...Scott! Wha-whats happening? What's going on? Scott!" Stiles was beginning to shake as he tried to stand up to face the alpha. "I-I don't know, she is struggling" Scott was sweating and clasping his forehead as he tried to keep Malia's emotions from consuming him. Stiles flailed his arms as he yelled back at Scott "I can see that! But wh-" but Stiles didn't get to finish his sentence because Malia cut him off.

_Try to concentrate_

_"_I'm trying!" Malia growled as she dug her claws into the concrete floor. -_Focus on the sound of my voice- "_No!" Malia growled again between clenched teeth. -_Look at my eyes- _"NO." Malia growled again at nobody in particular. Stiles was staring at Malia now, his focus completely on her. Confusion spread across his face as he saw Malia fighting off someone or something none of them could see. Stiles heart was beating at a rapid rate, his breathing becoming erratic as his mind began to swim in attempt to figure out what the hell was going on.

_Concentrate_

_"_I'm trying, I'm trying, I'm trying," Malia kept on repeating as tears streamed down her cheeks in defeat. "I'm trying, I'm trying, I'm...I-I tried" she finally whispered as she slumped against the pillar crying. Her last words echoed through Stiles mind, taking him back to a time of his life that still haunted his dreams. _I tried, John. I tried. Tell him that I tried._ Stiles let his legs give out, his knees hitting the ground as his world began to spin around him. That was the night he lost his mother, the night the ground broke underneath him.

The night wasn't over, the Full Moon still burned bright in the night sky. But, it had taken every piece of energy from the broken souls lying helpless on the floor, that there was nothing left for the rest of the night to enjoy.

**Okay! Phew! That was cray-cray...I know it was all over the place. Im not sure how i feel about this chapter. Let me know if its like WTF! slap in the face to you because i will rewrite this chapter. I totally will. Ill delete it and restart if it helps to fit with the previous chapters. Dont ask me where Im heading with this because i have no freaking clue...but if you want to stick on for the crazy ride then you are well invited to do so =) **

**Please review! Pretty please!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I hope this isn't a major downfall from the last chapter...because i know the last chapter was like oof all over the place. I am sort of stomped, I may go back in a few days and probably rewrite these next chapters, especially if my wonderful readers do not like them. **

**So please do leave some reviews...Pretty please, let me know what you think. **

Stiles woke up to sunlight burning brightly through the lids of his eyes. His head was pounding and when he tried to lift himself up, the room began to spin. He was still in Derek's loft; lying on an uncomfortable gray sofa. It took him a minute to remember last night's overwhelming events; the screams and him blacking out. Stiles began to look around the room in search of Scott; he needed answers, an insight of what the hell had happened last night. Yet, when Stiles looked around the room in search for him, Scott was nowhere to be found. Stiles had managed to notice that Liam was no longer chained up to the column; in fact, he was nowhere to be seen as well.

"Lydia," Stiles called out as he sat upright on the sofa, trying his best not to vomit. "Lydia," he tried again but he received no answer. Stiles grunted as he massaged his temples and slowly tried to get up without stumbling on air. "Where the hell is every-," and Stiles was cut off by the sound of chains rattling. His heart did a flip in his chest, he had tried to avoid the inevitable the minute his lids fluttered open. He knew what had happened last night, he knew why he had gone into a state of unconsciousness. He had just wanted to sweep through it like it was one of those things that happened at Beacon Hills, like if it was another case to be solved. It wasn't, this wasn't a new supernatural creature on the loose trying to kill them all. This had been Malia, the were-coyote who had the power to send him in and out of darkness.

"Malia?" Stiles slowly walked towards the column that had been giving its back to him. He heard the rattling of chains again but he got no response. "Malia is that you?" Stiles knew it was her but he still hoped in a regretful way that it wasn't. He stopped right behind the column, not wanting to cross that line. Stiles had this horrible habit of ignoring or better yet, avoiding a problem until it eventually went away. Yet, he couldn't avoid Malia forever because in truth she wasn't _the_ problem, she was just part of the equation. Okay, he didn't even know what the problem was or is; the whole mess was just so complicating. How to solve for a problem you don't know the formula of? No wonder Malia hated math.

"Go away Stiles," Malia finally replied in a scratchy voice, the way it did when she was awoken from sleep early in the morning. The sound of her voice brought a comforting feeling to Stiles, sending warmth crawling from his toes all the way to his fingertips. He suddenly wanted to curl and cuddle right next to her like they had done every early morning when a cold breeze managed to sneak into their covers, his covers.

"Why are you still-where is every-why aren't you-?" As always Stiles tried to go over a hundred different questions all at once when he was completely perplexed. Malia rolled her eyes, a habit that she had quickly acquired when returning back to her human form. Stiles couldn't understand why Malia was still in chains, why Scott was not there to look after her as he had promised. He couldn't understand why she still had dry blood tainting her wrists and hands. "Here, wait up a sec," Stiles told Malia as he held a finger and directed his body towards Derek's bathroom. He returned seconds later with a wet towel, nervously licking his lips as he looked questioningly at Malia.

Stiles hadn't thought things through, again. He had seen her hands covered in dry blood and he immediately thought about cleaning her up. It all seemed so simple, get a wet cloth and wipe the blood away, help her. He didn't think about it twice, he knew what he wanted to do and he set himself forth to do it. Yet, when he came out of the bathroom with the towel in hand, his simple goal began to falter.

Malia was glaring at him, with those cautious eyes of hers. Those eyes were dangerous, they were worse than puppy eyes. They were a mix of deer and bunny eyes and her expressions were that of a puppy; it was simply too much to handle all at once. "What are you thinking of doing?" Malia grimaced at Stiles who widened his eyes like he had just been caught doing something _very_ wrong. "Um-I-uh...I was just going to-" Malia rolled her eyes again as Stiles began to incoherently speak. "I don't need your help Stiles, and stop that you are starting to reek of anxiety," Stiles let out a sigh as his tensed shoulders slouched. "Let me just help you clean that off," Malia grimaced at Stiles again who let out another sigh "Please, it's making me nauseous." Stiles made a sick expression but Malia only shrugged, "Well then don't look, you can leave." Stiles was about to give up, he was about to throw the towel, literally and figuratively speaking. Fine, if Malia didn't want his help and if she didn't want him around then he will leave. But, he wasn't able to do it. No matter how difficult she got, he could not leave her chained up to Derek's column with bloody wrists. "Stop being such a brat," Stiles grunted as he knelt down in front of her never looking into her eyes, because if he did he might start freaking out again. "I said no, Stiles," Malia pulled her hands away when Stiles tried to grab one of them. At this point, in another time, Stiles would have hesitated or maybe just backed away but he had had enough of that for now. Instead, he reached for her hand and grabbed onto it, tightly pulling it towards him. Malia tried to pull away, she _tried_, but failed. "Stay still, you know things will be done much quicker if you just stayed still, for once" Stiles said as he lifted an eyebrow. Malia huffed but finally obliged opening her fist to Stiles as he gently wiped at her palm. Malia sighed and relaxed against the column stealing glances at Stiles as he tended to her blood stained hands.

It had been a while since he was this physically close to Malia, like actually having some type of physical contact. Her hands were still kind of cold, but they felt as soft as he remembered them to be. For such a fierce coyote girl, Malia had really soft hands; one of the many details that he found amazing about her. Malia hated using products like lotion or soap, she was a run through the water kind of gal. She loved to dig her hands in the earth, picking stuff up and throwing them out. You would think that she would be rough around the edges, but she really wasn't. Malia was soft, he wouldn't say delicate but there was that side to her.

"So, where did the rest of the pack go?" Stiles asked as he kept focusing on her hands. Malia was looking at Stiles, carefully examining his every move. "Lydia took Kira home, since Scott didn't want to leave Liam alone," Stiles scoffed and Malia furrowed her eyebrows, "And then Scott took Liam home." Stiles needed to have a very serious conversation with Scott, if he recalled correctly the alpha had sworn to keep an eye on Malia. He understood that he also had his other pack members to look after, but he swore. Stiles got a little distracted thinking about how angry he should or shouldn't be at Scott he almost hadn't noticed Malia flinch when he pressed a little too hard on her wrist. "Did that hurt?" Stiles asked Malia, a sudden tone of seriousness in his voice. Malia shook her head, her eyes wide as she tried her best to look unaffected. Stiles looked straight into her eyes as he pressed against her wrist a little harder this time. Malia's eyes crinkled on the sides in response to the pain and Stiles turned completely serious, there was no bullshitting him now. "Malia you aren't healing," Stiles stated as he looked down at her wrists and realized that they were in fact still raw and bruised. "Leave it Stiles," Malia tried to pull her hand away but Stiles held onto it. "You don't even have the strength to pull your hand away" Malia sighed as she turned her gaze down onto her lap. "Im just tired," Malia said in attempt to shrug him off but Stiles wouldn't budge. "I'll call Scott" Stiles said as he reached out to grab his phone from his pocket with one hand as the other held onto Malia's. "I'm fine Stiles. I can feel it healing. It's just taking time." Malia said in a state of panic, she didn't want Scott worrying or thinking that she was too weak now to be part of his pack. She didn't want to lose his trust as well.

Stiles pursed his lips but decided to comply with Malia's request and abandon the idea. "We need to get you out of these stupid chains then," Stiles got up patting himself up and down as he searched for the key, "Key...key..where-". Malia stared at Stiles, he astonished her so much it drove her nuts, "Stiles, you don't have the key remember, Scott does." Stiles turned to gape at her, "Right." He turned to look around the room, maybe Scott had left it behind or there could be an extra key in the duffle bag. He walked towards the duffle bag sitting on the metal table. "Key-key-key," Stiles kept on repeating as he rummaged through the empty bag. "Stiles," Malia called out to him but the boy kept on searching in the bag "It should be in here" he mumbled to himself as he inspected the bag for the tenth time. "Stiles!" Malia yelled and Stiles quickly turned towards her, the bag forgotten. "Over there," the were coyote signaled with her head towards a coffee table. Stiles walked over to the coffee table standing right in front of the gray coach he had just been laying on. "Key!" Stiles smiled as he reached out to get it, but he quickly noticed a small note underneath it. He picked it up and began scanning it as he read through it in his head.

_Stiles, don't be mad. _

_I'm keeping my promise, _

_I'm looking after her_

_and you. _

_You have time so _

_don't waste it. _

_-Scott_

_"_Stiles, what's wrong?" Malia questioned as she heard Stiles heartbeat change pace in a matter of seconds. "N-nothing...umm let's get you out of those chains" he said as he held the key tightly in his grip walking towards Malia.


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles was a little upset, maybe even a little pissed off. Scott had no right to assume anything, the only person allowed to question and assume things around here was him; and that was because that was his rightful role in the pack. He never told Scott about him and Malia, more specifically, he never told him about that night in Eichen House. Stiles always figured that Scott would be the first to know when he lost his V-card; he would know the hows of the way it all went down. Maybe it was the fact that he was possessed by the Nogitsune at the time, and that Allison had died a couple days after, that he hadn't told him. Yet, even when months had passed after the incident he never found it in him to tell Scott about it. He actually felt very protective over the memory of that night, almost possessive. To put it in simpler English terms, he felt it was of nobody's goddamn business to know. What had happened that night felt more than physically personal to Stiles. He knew that it hadn't just been him losing his virginity at a mental institution with a beautiful girl, it wasn't a stupid teenage first time thing. The kind of thing you bragged about in the hallways of a smelly high school with a stupid grin on your face.

He could not explain it for the life of him; he had attempted to explain it to himself several times before, but miserably failed. He had especially tried to break it all down that night Malia found out about her relationship with Peter. He had almost died that night; his friends had almost died that night. It had been a horrible night and Stiles had a shit load of thoughts bouncing in his head when he got home; the kind of thoughts that drove one into mild depression. Stiles thought about everything and everyone that night, relieving his darkest moments beginning from when his mother died to Allison's death and finally Malia's departure.

He had been lying alone on his bed, when he began to try and decipher his relationship with Malia; after spending a good hour of texting and calling her. He had left over a dozen voice mails and more than enough text messages to know that no response meant that he wouldn't be hearing from her that night. Stiles had been extremely heavy on emotions that night, but the one that sunk deep was that of anger. He hadn't known if he was angry at himself for not telling her about Peter or if he was angry at her for leaving him like that. He knew she had a good enough reason to leave, but it still had hurt him when she left. He felt that she had broken an unspoken promise when she left, and that made him angry.

He had kept something hidden from Malia, a really important something. The kind of something that could possibly change the way you viewed your whole life and yourself. Stiles had known that what he had done had been unacceptable, stupid even but he could not understand exactly why he had done it. He had never trusted Peter, from the beginning he knew he was one of the bad guys. He definitely did not want him anywhere near the pack; why they kept him close was beyond him. So, when he found out that Peter was Malia's father, he opted for there to be no relationship between the two other than biological. Peter was bad news, Peter had always been bad news and he didn't want him influencing Malia. Yet, he knew that keeping such a thing from her was not right. Scott had been ready to tell her, but Stiles always found an excuse not to. What had he told Scott that day at the volt? That it was because Malia might leave the pack for Peter? Her absence would mean a weakness in the pack and a potential victory for the enemy, Checkmate! Yet, he knew that this was a weak excuse; but excuse for what? Anyways it hadn't mattered because Scott trusted her, he trusted her not to turn to Peter. So why couldn't he; he who spent the most time with her, and knew her better than the rest of the pack?

That night Malia's face of pure betrayal and deception flashed his mind more than a dozen times. Why hadn't he told her? Scott had trusted her, why hadn't he? A sudden flashback of their trip to Mexico had consumed his mind, Malia had run and he had almost sprinted after her. He would have followed her into the darkness of the dessert if it hadn't been for Lydia who pulled him back. He was wondering why he had almost done such a thing, why he had almost left his precious jeep and Lydia alone in the middle of nowhere. Why he had almost sprinted into danger without his bat, fully unprotected. Then he remembered that familiar feeling of panic when Malia ran out of sight and how it quickly drove him out of sanity. That same feeling had enveloped him in the volt when Malia pulled his hand away and walked out, leaving him behind.

Why hadn't he told her, if Scott had trusted her? Why hadn't he?

_And if she finds out about him, she's gone. _

_"_She is gone," Stiles had whispered to himself that night as he ran his fingers through his hair. The bed had felt extremely big and cold that night without Malia cuddled behind him. Stiles hadn't realized it then, but that night he had not slept in the middle. That night he had not slept at all.

No, Scott had no right to assume anything.


	8. Chapter 8

"Stiles...Stiles!" Malia furrowed her eyebrows at the very distracted boy. "Hmmm?" Stiles answered absentmindedly as he stroked the inside of Malia's wrist with his thumb. "You can let go now," Malia said matter-of-factly as she shook her hand trying to loosen his grip on her. "What?" Stiles was still in a daze scrunching his eyebrows in absentmindedness as he kept a soft look fixed on their hands. Malia grunted as she stood up abruptly, making Stiles fall back a little. "I'm gonna go," Malia simply stated as she started walking towards the exit. "Wha-...w-wait Malia!" Stiles fumbled to get up as he came out of his daze. "What?" Malia spat as she turned to glare at him, making Stiles fall back on his steps. "You don't have to-I mean- don't go," Stiles looked at her pleadingly and Malia looked taken aback. "Why?" she demanded as she furrowed her eyebrows, a stern look on her face but her eyes sparkling with...anticipation?

Again, here he was not thinking things through. Malia always needed answers and he had always been ready to give them to her, but whenever it came to this he always got stumped. At one point he began to realize that his lack of certainty when it came to them, really disappointed Malia.

"Just-stay," Stiles pleaded again in an almost whisper. Malia was still glaring at him, "Well I mean you don't have to, I'm not ordering you to stay I just want you to-I mean if you want to-" Stiles was beginning to ramble nervously as he flailed his arms everywhere. Malia's breathing was getting heavier as she analyzed the hyper active boy. These two really sucked at expressing themselves, so they always had to be guessing each other's thoughts and emotions. They had sort of become experts on the field of knowing what the other was thinking or feeling without either of them saying a word. It was a stage that only long term dating couples or married couples reached, and yet here they were. But they still had a lot to master on, since they only saw what they wanted to see.

"We could go somewhere else if you want, we don't have to stay here, we could go anywhere else, anywhere...but just...don't leave, okay?" Stiles looked at her anxiously. Malia bit her bottom lip as she thought about running out the door. It took a lot of her self-restraint as a human to not bolt out the exit, so she simply nodded her head as she kept nibbling at her bottom lip nervously. Stiles let a small sigh of relief as the corner of his lip lifted into a half smile.

Malia was beating herself up in her mind for telling him yes. She hadn't been able to remember exactly what had happened last night when she woke up that morning. She had just remembered screaming and thrashing a lot and feeling extremely exhausted, she remembered crying for most of the night. That was the reason she had woken up that morning with such a sore throat. It had frightened her to death when she had realized that she wasn't healing properly. Malia had tried her best to keep her heart from beating out of her chest, she hadn't wanted Scott to realize that she had grown weak after a full moon; it was bad enough that she couldn't control her shift. Thankfully, Scott had left with Liam early in the morning, giving Malia some time to regain her strength. But she hadn't realized Stiles was there, she had not heard or smelled his scent until he started tossing and crying in his sleep. Malia was used to Stiles' having nightmares, she had often been there with Stiles when he had them. Waking him up and assuring him that it was just a dream, that this was real, she was real. Spending a few minutes counting fingers as he relaxed and went back to sleep with her cuddling behind him, spooning him while he held her hand to his chest like a life line.

Maybe she had said yes to him because it was her name he had cried out in his sleep; begging her not to leave. Maybe it was because he had tended to her wounds when they were strictly off limits of showing such care to each other. She had told him that he didn't have to take care of her anymore, that he was off the hook. And yet, here he was wiping her dry blood away and asking her to stay. Why she always felt a huge weakness towards the only human that gave her strength she could never understand, and that frightened her.

So, here she was keeping a safe distance from Stiles as she followed him towards his jeep; that damn jeep, she really liked that jeep.

Stiles stopped right in front of his piece of crap car, fidgeting nervously with his keys. He thought about how Malia had sat in the back seat with Liam when there had been a perfectly good empty passenger seat next to him. If he got in and Malia crawled into the back, he might start crying. "Uh-ummm-" Stiles was humming to himself as he scratched the back of his head nervously. Malia could smell his anxiety, a scent that had become very familiar to her over the year. The way he looked from her and to the car nervously and almost pleadingly was driving Malia insane. In some way she knew what he was stressing about, so she took the initiative, like she always did, and climbed into the front seat. She looked towards Stiles who was still standing outside gawking, and she signaled for him to move.

Stiles felt some type of relief and a rush of happiness when he saw Malia sitting in the front. He couldn't help a smile from forming on his lips, he tried to contain it because what was he, five? Yet, he couldn't help but get that sense of _this is good,_ _this is great, I can work with this, this is progress_ when he sat in the driver's seat and Malia was only just a few inches away from him. She wasn't leaving; she wasn't running away she was here with him in his crappy jeep and everything felt so right, for now.

Stiles started the car, and he smiled to himself as he tapped on the steering wheel with his thumb. They had the whole day, and the whole night if Malia allowed it. In fact, if it were for him right now they would have more than just 24 hours. Yet, he knew things were not that easy, no they were never that easy.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 **

_People fall in love in mysterious ways _

_Maybe it's all part of a plan _

_I'll just keep on making the same mistakes_

_Hoping that you'll understand,_

_Maybe we found love right where we are _

_-Ed Sheeran_

_STILES' MEMORY:_

"Malia but it's hot," Stiles whined as Malia pulled him upwards grabbing him by the hands as she tried to get him off the stupid sweaty coach. "It's hot in here," Malia said grumpily as she tried to wrap her head around the fact that Stiles preferred to stay indoors rather than be outside. Malia was feeling ecstatic, it was finally Summer and that meant she could go out naked in the woods in her human body and not be cold. "It's like 80 degrees in here and 100 out there, I'd rather melt at 80 than burn alive at 100," Stiles remarked as he tried his best to stay on the coach, but who was he kidding Malia could lift him up and carry him over her shoulder if she pleased. "Come on Stiles," Malia gave one last easy pull and Stiles was finally off the coach. "Fine!" Stiles grunted as he got up, t-shirt clinging onto his skin due to sweat.

Malia was wearing a tank top and some extremely short shorts. Her hair was damp and clung to her bare shoulders, skin glowing and eyes sparkling. Stiles was already hot on the surface but just seeing her glow like that made him feel hot somewhere in the inside. "Hurry up, Stiles" Malia was already at the door gesturing for him to move. He knew she had been waiting for today since the weather man had pointed out a happy bright sun due for Sunday. Today was Sunday and the sun was bright and happy alright.

Stiles got his keys and followed Malia out the door, she was already seated on the passenger seat bouncing up and down like an excited five year old. If it had been anybody else he would have slammed the door shut and gone back to his stinky coach, but instead he smiled and got into the driver's seat, feeling all of a sudden, just as excited as she was.

"Okay, lets go happy pants," Stiles started the jeep and Malia did a little yelp. He had never seen her this excited before, well no, that was a lie. Malia did get easily excited over very trivial things, like ice cream for example. She went nuts when she had to pick a flavor, if it were for her she would scoop all 31 flavors into one ice-cream cone and devour it in a couple of minutes; never worrying about a brain freeze because she was a tough cookie like that.

"Ugh! Malia we forgot to pack towels and extra clothes. No, we forgot food! Food, Malia! I refuse to eat anything that is not cooked and has not been processed and packaged in some human factory" Malia was still smiling a little when she rolled her eyes at Stiles. "They are all in the back seat, see?" Malia turned around to gently tap at a few bags conspicuously sitting in the back. "Oh, you did all that?" Stiles turned to quickly look at all the bags and then at Malia, who was grinning from ear to ear as she nodded a yes, "I woke up early just to make the sandwiches, since you are such a huge fan of processed _meat._" The corner of Stiles' mouth quirked into a half smile, feeling a little giddy at the thought of Malia preparing his lunch. It felt like a kind of thing a girlfriend would do.

"Okay, you need to tell me where to go from here, because I have no clue where you are taking me," They were just at the edge of the woods, and Malia was beginning to glow brighter as she was in her element. After a few minutes of going around finding the safest place to park Stiles valuable jeep they headed off into the woods on foot. Stiles was already sweating and complaining by the time they were just deep inside the woods they could no longer see or hear the road. "Are we almost there?" Stiles gasped as he tried his best not to dissolve onto the ground. "Yeah, just a little more," Malia said unaffected by the heat and bumps of the woods.

Malia turned to look to Stiles when she began to hear his heavy uneven breathing, he had fallen way behind and was bent on his knees trying to catch his breath. She ran towards him, grabbed his arm and looped it around her neck. "Here," she said as she grabbed him by the waist and pulled him onwards. With Malia's help they managed to reach their destination within a matter of minutes.

Stiles was completely in awe, his eyes growing wide as he took in every feature of the beautiful hidden river in the woods. Malia was beaming right next to him, taking in every detail of Stiles expression; feeling mighty content with herself that she had helped insight such a look. The river wasn't aggressive or rocky, it was calm and it seemed like it went inches deep, beautiful green trees curled around it as if to protect it from the outside world. It literally felt like another little world, even the temperature felt different, cooler and fresher. "Malia, this is- wow," Stiles was still dumbfounded, how had he not known about this, all those summers wasted. "I used to come here all the time, it looks even better during winter, but you can't get in the water then," Malia had started to strip off, dropping her back pack on the ground as she stepped out of her shorts. Stiles finally stopped gawking at the beauty of the place and began gawking at Malia instead. "Wha-whaaaa- what are you doing?" Stiles stupidly asked as Malia pulled off her sweaty tank top, revealing her simple purple bra. "Getting undressed," Stiles blinked rapidly at Malia's obvious response "I can see that-I mean- wha-why are you getting, un-undressed?" Malia raised an eyebrow, sometimes she wondered if she actually was doing everything wrong or if Stiles was just weird. "The river, water...it's hot" Malia simply stated trying to make it simple for Stiles to see the correlation. "Oh, right. It's hot and the river is fresh and we are hot, right," Stiles nervously mumbled as he nodded to himself.

Malia was staring at Stiles waiting for him to start undressing so they could get into the water together. She had not made Stiles walk all the way down here so they could just stand around. "Stiles," Malia called as she gestured towards his clothes, if Stiles didn't start taking them off she would do it for him. "What? Oh! Right," Stiles wasn't a public type of guy, he often avoided pool parties and such events because he hated showing his body. Was he shy? Maybe. Insecure? Yeah, probably. Unlike Jackson, Scott, Danny and even Isaac especially Derek, Stiles wasn't all that great in the muscle department. It was not like Malia had not seen him shirtless before, but they were now out in the open where the sunlight streamed through the leaves and it just felt like overexposure. He felt like that vampire dude from the Twilight movie, only that it sucked cuz his skin didn't sparkle under sunlight.

Stiles pulled down his baggy jeans first, revealing his medium length boxers. This part of his body he didn't mind so much, a lot of guys had scrawny hairy legs, and well, to be truthful his legs weren't all that scrawny. All that running away from supernatural creatures, the authority and his dad over the years had really helped him built a few muscles there. "Stiles," he heard Malia impatiently call as she gestured yet again to his shirt. "I don't mind, there are extra clothes in the bag, plus I don't want to get like a sexy tan or anything, you know being pale, one of my best known features," but Malia wouldn't have that, she wanted that shirt off of Stiles and she was starting to grow impatient. So she stomped towards him, her eyes glaring with a clear goal in mind. Stiles stumbled backwards, Malia didn't scare Stiles but she did make him very nervous, anxious even. She had been planning to rip his shirt open but she really liked that shirt, since Stiles often wore it. It was his white t-shirt with the navy blue collar. So, instead she grabbed for the hem of his shirt and quickly pulled it off. Stiles didn't even resist, too perplexed by Malia's ferocity.

Malia looked down at Stiles and beamed, she loved his petite toned body especially the way his torso curved perfectly into the waistband of his boxers forming a perfect 'v'; she never understood why Stiles disliked his body so much. Stiles eyes grew wide as he saw Malia nibble at her bottom lip while she scanned him _very_ slowly. Yeah, Malia made Stiles very, _very_ nervous, all types of nervous too. "Let's go," Malia leaned forward sparkly eyes as she whispered those two words just a few centimeters away from his lips. _God!_ He didn't know if Malia knew the effect she could have on him, or if she knew it too perfectly and she was a natural born tease. His knees already felt like jello and she hadn't even touched him, and what guy feels the way he does after a girl scans his body like that. There was a reason he was the little spoon and she the big spoon, Malia just drove him nuts like that. It was those damn adorable sexy eyes and that wild sexy smile; it was just _her_, period.

Malia jumped into the water, laughing and snorting like the total girl she is as she splashed around. Stiles couldn't help but laugh as well and feel the excitement creep into him by just looking at her. It was then and there were Stiles figured something out, Malia made him feel like a total human. She made him feel that just being him, Stiles Stilinksi was more than enough. Malia made him feel like the Batman in his human world and that was more than okay for the quirky boy. It was the best feeling in the world.


	10. Chapter 10

**I have decided that maybe sometime this week or I really don't know when, I'm going to go back and edit or rewrite some of the chapters. Honestly, they kind of suck =(**I feel like this story compared to the other Stalia fics is just junk, but i will try to improve it.** I am so eternally grateful to all those who reviewed, followed and Favorited this story, thank you soooo very much. Thanks again, and i hope i am not wasting your precious fanfic reading time, thank you =) **

_When I was kissing on my baby _

_She put her love down soft and sweet_

_In the lowland plot I was free _

_Heaven and Hell were words to me. _

_ -Hozier _

Stiles hadn't realized he had been smiling to himself while he drove his jeep in silence, too lost in his own memory. He had not felt this kind of tranquility in a while; he was feeling a peace he had not been able to obtain when he had been alone. He didn't know if it was due to Malia's presence or the fact that he had just allowed himself to remember something so sweet. Malia was still sitting right next to him, quiet and comfortable in her own seat. He had expected for her to be restless and a little more than uncomfortable but instead she had fallen asleep a few minutes into the ride.

Malia wasn't the type of girl to fall asleep in exposed places, allowing herself to be vulnerable and easy prey. Yet, whenever she was with this boy she quickly forgot about all that, feeling more than at ease. It was a very dangerous thing for Malia, enough to make her a little panicky at times. Well, she had not really minded so much before, when she knew Stiles was to be trusted because she had felt he was the one to trust, but now, now she wan't so sure.

Malia was curled up in the car seat, sleeping quiet soundly but shivering every now and then due to sudden chills that seeped through Stiles' crappy old windows. Stiles parked the car on the side of the road in order to pull off his jacket, the same jacket he had given Malia that night at the volt. He carefully reached over and draped it over her shivering body, tucking a few hairs that had fallen onto her face behind her ear. Malia pulled onto the jacket, inhaling its scent as her tensed body relaxed onto the seat, a small smile of pure bliss forming on her lips. Stiles couldn't help but form a cheeky smile of his own when he saw her reaction. His scent was still able to do that, bring her comfort and that pleased him way more than he thought it would. He felt a little jealousy towards his own jacket though, it was the fact that a shitty garment that carried _his _scent was allowed to hold Malia like that when _he _wasn't.

Stiles was drifting into his obnoxious mindless thoughts again, he had not realized he was absentmindedly drawing tiny circles behind Malia's ear with his thumb. Malia was too deep in her sleep, tired from fighting off such a horrible night, she had forgotten where she was and with whom. Malia often had very vivid dreams, in which all five senses came into play making it hard to distinguish fiction from reality. This had often happened when she was an animal, when she had been in her coyote form. Sometimes she dreamt about running in the woods, hunting down prey and it would feel so real that all her four legs would start kicking in rhythmic motion. Other times she would dream about the night of the accident and wake up howling as if crying because in her dream she had still been just a little girl. When she had returned back into her human form she often had dreams of being a coyote, running in the woods and sniffing up prey. In result she had often awoken sprawled on the floor or on the opposite side of the bed because she had been tossing and turning all night. That was one of the reasons she had really disliked sleeping on a high leveled mattress, because she had often awoken startled on a cold hard floor.

After having met Stiles, her dreams changed, it had happened a few nights after the scene in the basement at Eichen House. Malia had now other things to dream about, other than the car accident and hunting down prey, she had Stiles. She no longer awoke crying or sprawled on the floor, because she no longer tossed and turned. Instead she awoke feeling hot with a clenching ache down her belly and a heartbeat that could be felt in several places other than within her chest. The sensation had not been painful or so uncomfortable but it had made her ache giving her this sort of hunger that she had not known existed. She had hated waking up when she dreamt about the boy with warm hands. It had angered her immensely when she would open her eyes to an empty room with her just in it, missing the warmth that had enveloped her in her dreams. Because that was what Stiles brought with him in her dreams, warmth and these other sensations she could not yet clearly define, but she knew she more than liked all of them.

There came a certain point in which Malia's hunger had turned into longing, and she had wanted to see the boy, she had _needed_ to see the boy again. Malia had so desperately wanted to see those light brown eyes that had filled her with something so sweet and satisfying that she had felt they would be able to feed her for days on end. Malia had not been able to trace scents then, but luckily Stiles attended the same school Scott McCall did, the same school she would be attending soon. And so as fate planned it, Malia saw Stiles again in a hallway of Beacon High, and until then she had kept to his side. Sneaking through his bedroom window almost every night in order to crawl into his covers by his side because according to Malia: Why should she have to suffer cold when she had finally found her heat source?

Stiles was still tracing slow circles behind the shell of Malia's ear, looking at her with knitted brows as his mind drifted off into longing thoughts. Malia was clinging onto Stiles' jacket trying to make it into a second skin. There came a point in which the scent the jacket provided was no longer _enough _for Malia_,_ so she leaned into Stiles' touch nuzzling her cheek into his hand in pursue of something more. Stiles blinked rapidly as he felt his hand fill with Malia's warmth, and he tried his best not to move so as to not startle her away from his touch.

Malia was still asleep, but in her dreams she was sleeping next to Stiles in his father's old coach. They had often fallen asleep there, when watching a marathon of Star Wars or Marvel movies. She had often nuzzled against his body hiding her face in the hollow space between his neck and shoulder, tucking her folded legs on his laps. It had been the only time in which Stiles had actually felt like the big spoon, in which Malia allowed herself to be the little spoon. Stiles had often traced lazy circles behind her ear as she slept cuddled against him.

Malia moved so quickly Stiles was not given an opportunity to react. She had pushed the jacket aside and grabbed onto Stiles' hand pulling him towards her in one dramatic motion. Stiles upper body was now leaning so close to Malia, most of his body hovering over the gear shift; his face just a few inches away from hers. Stiles didn't know if to pull back or stay perfectly still, which was becoming quite difficult given the uncomfortable position he was in. Still asleep, Malia had not appeared satisfied with the result as she furrowed her eyebrows and the corners of her mouth quirked downwards. Stiles felt her hands slide down to his waist were she held on tightly and pulled him towards her quite hard. Stiles landed with an "oof" right on top of Malia quite uncomfortably. Malia did not even give Stiles the chance to adjust himself in the constraining space of the car seat, she slithered both her arms around his waist and pulled him so close towards her, nuzzling her face into the base of his neck as she managed to curl on his lap. This was the result she had been looking for in between her sleep; she was now comfortable, smiling and purring quite contently as she held onto Stiles.

Stiles' heart was beating rapidly, his hands hovering over Malia's body as his held completely still. _Oh shit! _He wasn't breathing, he was trying not to breath, he was trying to tell his heart to calm the fuck down. If he made one wrong move Malia will wake up and then it will all be over. But Malia was making it so damn difficult the way she squirmed on top of him, if she made that purring sound one more time he swears he's going to fucking lose it.

Stiles knows Malia often does stuff like this when she's asleep, it had often made him wonder what she actually dreamt about. I mean, it had never bothered Stiles especially when it had been just the two of them in his bed late at night or early in the morning. But it had gotten kind of weird when she fell asleep on the coach, in the living room with his dad there and Malia deciding within her dream that it was the best time to nibble and kiss Stiles' neck. Yeah, maybe Malia's little habits were a _little too_ weird but again when it was just Stiles and Malia, it was just _Stiles and Malia. _With all the shit going on around them, the little world that they had created for themselves had felt more than perfectly normal, it had felt sane.

Stiles gulped down hard as Malia's lips found the skin of his neck. If those lips started moving, if her tongue and teeth started playing with his skin then...then. _Fuck!_ And so they did. Malia began peppering the base of his neck with small kisses, tracing her nose along the length of his neck. Stiles tried not to swallow, he tried his best not to move, but then he felt her teeth graze his skin. _Shit!_ He let out a little moan and Malia emitted a low growl in response. Stiles felt the vibrations of her sound on his chest and he tightly closed his eyes as he let out a shaky breath. His hands, his hands were still hovering over her body, shaking and losing strength as they yearned to touch and touch. "Stiles," Malia protested in a small whimper because Stiles wasn't responding and Malia wanted, _needed_ attention. Stiles was not budging he was trying his best to concentrate on self-restraint. Malia had grown impatient then and in frustration she grabbed the back of Stiles' head curling her fingers within his messy hair pulling him down towards her, crushing her lips against his. Stiles' eyelids flew open, his self control completely lost once he felt Malia's tongue dance on the surface of his lips.

He had missed the taste of her and the electric warmth he felt every time she kissed him. His mind was swimming now, too shocked to process, too in bliss to think about the do's and dont's of the situation.

He cupped the side of her face with one hand as the other held onto her waist, closing his eyelids as he opened his mouth for her. Stiles wasn't there anymore, he was with Malia now, somewhere within a dream. Their tongues danced blissfully with each other as they savored the long awaited kiss.

He had been too surprised to dominate at first, but now that he knew this was actually happening Stiles wanted to take control. He wasn't going to lie, he had often dreamt about Malia, whispering her name in between sweaty sheets late in the night. It had been his guilty pleasures after having had done what he did to Malia. Yet, now here he was with Malia wanting him as much as he wanted her and _god_ did he want her.

Stiles' fingers found the hem of her shirt, sliding under the fabric to press against her skin as they slowly traced around the curve of her waist. Malia sighed, breaking the kiss momentarily to lift her body in order to capture Stiles in between her legs, her knees pressing tightly against the sides of his hips. Stiles leaned forward, not wanting any space between them, and pulled Malia towards him determined to deepen the kiss. He lifted his hips, to meet her center, and pulled her down as his mouth swallowed her sigh. He was in control now, his tongue leading hers in a sweet dance. His fingertips digging into her hip while the others tangled in her hair pulling gently as he licked into her mouth, tugging at her bottom lip with his teeth. Malia began rocking back and forth, thighs tight around Stiles hips, as she elicited sweet little groans from him. He tugged at her hair gently baring the length of her neck, to kiss and nibble down her skin. Malia shuddered at the sensation of his teeth, slipping her hand around his neck as she tried to grind up against him, but there were too many layers and she wanted them gone.

Malia pushed Stiles by the shoulders against the seat, slipped her shirt off and then pulled Stiles back towards her quickly, not wanting to waste a second. Stiles wanted to look at her, drink her in, trace every inch of her bare skin but Malia had a tight grip on him and he couldn't pull away. She was kissing him hungrily now, thumbs pressed against his jaw urging him to open his mouth further.

She was pressed up against him so nicely but it wasn't enough for Stiles, he needed her closer. He wrapped both his arms around her naked waist, tightly pulling her and pushing himself up against her, as they kissed heatedly. Malia wasn't satisfied with the feel of cloth against her skin so she reached down to grab the hem of Stiles shirt and tugged urgently. Stiles lifted his arms and broke the kiss with a loud _smack _in order to get the fabric out of the way. Once it was gone, Malia quickly returned to his mouth nibbling and licking at his bottom lip; she loved his mouth, the taste and feel of it, all the promises it had produced but never kept. Malia growled and quickly moved down to his jaw were she began to gently bite and lick. Stiles was breathing heavily, his heartbeat completely lost in a race; Malia kept licking and biting down his neck, to his shoulders. He wanted to taste her as well, so he grabbed her by the chin, placed a hard kiss on her mouth before capturing the soft skin above her breast in between his teeth. Malia dug her nails into Stiles' shoulder, surprised by the feel of his teeth, and arched her back pushing herself against his mouth. Stiles began sucking and licking at the skin captured between his teeth, producing moans from Malia. Her center was pressing tightly against him and he couldn't help but groan, pulling her closer to him by the waist. He lapped at the freshly bruised skin of her soft breast, and Malia shuddered feeling extremely sensitive by now; her nails still digging into stiles shoulders. He quickly turned to capture the soft skin on the surface of her other breast and as he did Malia gasped, throwing her head back as she slid her nails down Stiles' back. Stiles groaned loudly shuddering against her, never separating his mouth from her skin, as his hands tightened around her hips, blunt fingernails digging into her skin as they slid around to her front. Malia gasped, her eyes flashing sapphire as she awoke from the daze, to sensitive now to feign it was only a dream.

Stiles' hand was making way down to the inside of her shorts, when Malia pushed herself away from him breathing quite hard. Her heart was beating like a rabbit and she felt hot all over, her blood boiling as her center clenched in need. Stiles was left dumbstruck on the car seat, feeling all of a sudden extremely cold, lips swollen and eyes sparkling. He wanted her back, she was still only inches away from him, but he needed her close.

"Malia," Stiles pleadingly called out to her as he tried to pull her back, but Malia snarled pushing her back against the glove compartment. Stiles blinked a few times before figuring out what just happened; Malia was fully awake now and she had that same look. Stiles eyes widened in horror, as he came out of the illusion, things weren't okay they hadn't been okay. He did it again, he let it happen again. "Malia I'm sorry, I didn't. No, I mean- _fuck," _Malia's eyes were wide her brows furrowed as she looked at him, he had nail marks on his shoulders and bite marks along the length of his neck. Malia looked down to take in her bare skin, and then she was too angry and ashamed to look up at him again.

_No-no-no-no_. Stiles kept repeating to himself as he saw Malia's expression, which resembled so much of that night. _Fuck! You fucking idiot! _"No Malia, please. This wasn't-," but Malia was already out the car, her flesh reacting to the cold air, but she was too lost in her own thoughts to even notice. "Malia!," Stiles stumbled out of the car pulling on his shirt as he grabbed for his jacket. "Malia its freezing-" Stiles was expecting for her to yell, growl or threaten to rip his head off but instead "Im sorry." Her bare back facing him as her soft voice was almost drowned by the wind. _NO! No-no-no _he wasn't going to let her leave with that though again, no it wasn't her fault _damn it_. He hadn't meant it, he hadn't fucking meant it. If he could take back that night, if he could take all that back.

He ran towards her, facing her as he swiftly placed his jacket on her, tucking it on her as he made sure no skin was exposed to the harshness of the wind. "Stiles," but Stiles wasn't listening, he wouldn't listen. "Stiles," he tucked her hair behind her ear and tried to warm her cheeks as he cupped her face in his hands. "Stiles!" Malia growled as she pushed his hands away, but Stiles quickly grabbed on to them, holding them in a death grip. "No." he stated in low growl of his own as he looked right into her eyes.

He hadn't meant it, he had not meant what he had said that night. He did not know yet, what Malia actually meant to him or what he meant to Malia, but he knew that it was more than what he made it out to be that night. He had often compared what they had with what Scott had with Allison or even to what he had felt for Lydia, and to his horror it could never actually compare. So he still did not know, he couldn't know because this was _so _different. Malia was so different, and so many emotions came into play when he thought about her that it just drove him insane. This couldn't be healthy, it couldn't be good, but then why was he always here, just a few inches away from her begging for her to stay. The thought of her angered him at times, other times it made him ache, and when he was with her all that didn't matter because when they were together everything fell into place. There was nothing to think about or doubt; it was like the sun came out when it was just the two of them and hid whenever they were apart. If he could only remember, if he could only make out what that something was when they were together so he could never doubt it when they were apart.

He had told himself it was just a temporary thing, and that he would soon forget. He had with Lydia, and that had been years of devotion on his part, but reality was cruel and cold. The fact was that he did not want to forget, he did not want it to be a temporary thing. He grew so angry whenever he thought about it that way, and he hated all of it. Malia had been wrong, he had been with her not because she was a responsibility but because he wanted to be the one to protect her. So, it had driven him mad when the thought of Malia using him instead, crossed his mind. That was why he said the things he had said that night, but he had not meant any of it. He needed for her to know that, because the way she looked then and the way she looked now, trembling half naked in a lonely street made him feel like shit. He should have never hurt her like that; he should have never left a scar so deep.

No, this couldn't be healthy for either of them. They couldn't be good for each other, but they were already into deep to pull away.


	11. Chapter 11

**You have every right to abandon this fic. I completely get it, and I am extremely sorry. I have been trying to update since the last time i updated but freaking brain of mine burnt out of ideas. I've been trying to revise this fic, and so far i have chapter 1 ready and up so if you'd like to take a look and tell me what you think. **

**I have this huge BLOCK i cant even get my other fics going, I am just so..ugh! Sorry, I wish I had great writing potential. I am trying to improve so bear with me. **

**Anyways, I hope you like it (so sorry) and damn I'm sorry about the long ass annoying notes at the beginning of the chapters. (and the excessive apologies lol) **

**Please review, help me please. **

* * *

His long fingers wrap around her upper arms in a vise, strangling her body close to his. He was extremely serious when he told her "NO," he is done with having her walk away from him every time she gets the chance. He is done being a coward as well, letting her slip out of his fingers like water in his hands. He wants her full attention, he _needs _it, and he has set his mind on obtaining it.

She can be stubborn as fuck, but so can he.

He isn't shying away this time; he is through with the intimidation, self-doubt and guilt. He knows what he wants right at this moment, and he is keeping it captive with his stare. His determined eyes are holding hers locked, and she doesn't struggle under his grip, she doesn't even move. She is frozen and so is he.

He had so much to say, so much resentment collected like dust throughout the time he spend alone by his anger and regret that he'd been wanting to release. He's wanted to let her know, open up that window and let all that dust out, but now that he has her here there isn't a single thing he wants to say other than "I'm sorry." Yet, he can't even find it within himself to form that crappy apology through the clumsiness of his lips.

He lets out a sustained breath that comes out shaky and weak. "I- " he had collected enough strength to form that single sound when another one drowns it with a thunderous boom. The ground immediately stirs with the abrupt blast, and it shakes underneath them.

They are both still looking at each other when the questioning and alerting reaction reaches their eyes. Malia seems to express a little more fright than Stiles, but he is as well as startled as the were-coyote.

A silver blue light flashes and frames Malia's silhouette like a magical aura, and Stiles' single breath hitches in his throat. He has seen many unbelievable awesome things in his life, but he rarely has ever been so fortunate as to witness beautiful majestic ones, today seems to be a fortunate one.

Not soon after the light fades, another sound of a canon firing rings the skies and a single drop of rain falls between Stiles and Malia. Stiles watches it as it glistens infront of Malia's brown eyes before making its way down to the ground, and time ceases to exist for him at that very moment.

Rain immediately falls, covering the earth like a blanket, after that one raindrop hits the ground like a bomb, and the pair is soon being showered by a million angry raindrops that fall angrier after every booming thunder.

Stiles is enchanted by the scene, by the sudden upheavals of nature that matches him beat by beat. The storm is both beautiful and terrifying, and Stiles feels like he is watching his own emotions transform before him. It's all a storm, a mess of a storm that can be destructive not mattering how natural.

Malia begins to tremble within Stiles grip, and it's not because of the cold or the rain that falls endlessly like waterfalls. Her body convulses with every sound that booms like a canon, with every noise that resembles death.

Stiles feels Malia shake under his hands and his attention is snapped right back onto her. She is staring hard at the ground with greeted teeth, looking like those many times he spent with her trying to tame control. Lightning flashes again somewhere in the distance and Malia flinches, her own eyes flash a lightning blue and Stiles can feel her claws press against his skin when she instinctively reaches out to grab him by the arms.

"Hey? Malia?"

He feels his heart accelerate; he really doesn't know what is going on. He has never seen Malia react this way to a rainstorm.

Malia is trying hard to keep her breathing steady, but it gets harder for her when her breathing becomes shallow. Her eyes are darting in every direction except in Stiles'; she is searching for something, something that isn't exactly there.

"Hey, Malia," Stiles' eyes search for hers and when he finally catches them he detains them with a gentle hand under her chin. "Malia, calm down." The rain is heavy, weighing and clouding all their senses. Stiles blinks relentlessly trying to get the raindrops caught in his eyelashes to fall in order to see Malia clearly.

Thunder clashes the skies once again and Malia jumps forward, her hold on his arms tightening. Malia is staring him right in the eyes this time, and Stiles is able to see every ounce of fear that is quickly consuming her. He's spent many rainstorms with Malia, but he's never spent a thunderstorm with her.

Stiles doesn't know what to do, for a split second he loses all coherence. Malia is crumbling under him, drowning in rain, her bottom lip trembling. He looks at her brown eyes and something within them is breaking; raindrops fall from her eyes like tear drops and he has to wonder whether or not they really are raindrops.

"Hey Malia breathe. You need to breathe." He feels almost as frantic as she looks, and so he is expecting his words to come out as a plea, but he is so desperate for her to actually breathe that he is not amazed when his voice comes out commanding instead.

Malia nods her head, never tearing her eyes off of his as she focuses hard on her breathing. She is almost there, she can almost feel herself reaching some kind of shore when a lightning explodes some feet next to them and she falls back into the waters. Stiles sees her, she sees her losing control when her eyes turn sapphire before she hides them under tight lids.

"Malia! Concentrate! Hey, look at me! Keep your focus on me."

She knows what comes after the light, and she begins to breathe in short gasps. She wants to move, she wants to run away in four paws and hide in some burrow but none of her gives way to escape.

"Nothing's going to happen. Malia, I'm with you. I'm with-"

She pulls him in towards her, cutting him off, and presses her forehead against his. The resonating thunder comes soon after they collide, and Malia suffocates a whimper in the back of her throat. Stiles is looking at her, his eyes wielding her to relax, calling out for that special power he doesn't possess to take her pain away.

Malia presses her forehead tight against his trying hard to focus on his breathing and only him. She wants to drown all of the painful flashbacks that come with each thunderous sound in the sound of Stiles' heartbeat.

Light flashes through her lids and her hands shoot up to hold Stiles by the back of his head. He is her only anchor, her base to safety.

Stiles keeps watching her intently, and when he sees that terrified expression take over her features he instinctively wraps his arms around her waist to pull her against him.

He closes his lids tight alongside with hers and the canon goes off above them.

He can feel and hear her cry, and he doesn't want anything more but to take her somewhere warm and quiet away from the storm, but Malia seems to be planted to the ground like a tree. If he doesn't get her to move lightning is sure to strike and split her strong branches in half.

"Malia it's okay. It's over. You're not going to hurt them. You're not going to hurt anybody." He feels Malia shake under his embrace and he tightens his hold on her. The rain has drenched them so well that they merge almost perfectly with the storm now.

He hears a painful cry coming from Malia before he opens his lids to look at her. He can no longer feel her claws against his skin and when she opens her lids, brown pained eyes is all he sees.

He remembers the files—the police records—he remembers the description of the accident. It was raining that night; there was a thunderstorm that hit right before the accident.

He knows.

He now knows why rainstorms are different than thunderstorms.


End file.
